Phoenix
by MyImmortal329
Summary: Carol needs to heal. Daryl finds her at the church. Contains possible spoilers/speculation for episode 06X12.
Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead.

Phoenix

The church floorboards creaked under the weight of his boots, and he knew she heard him, but she didn't turn around. He watched her, hunched over at a small desk in the back, working tediously on something by candle light. He watched the way her shoulders tensed and shook, the way she ran her fingers through her hair, covered her eyes with her hand as if whatever she was doing caused her physical pain.

"Hey," he murmured. "You comin' to the meeting?"

"I think I know enough," Carol said quietly, never turning from her spot.

"Talk to me," he said quietly, stepping closer. "What's goin' on?"

"I'm fine," she said cooly, turning to peer over her shoulder at him.

"You ain't fine." He stepped closer. "You ain't been fine." He got close enough that he could see it, see the number circled at the bottom of the page, see the initials that he knew all too well stood for those girls she'd tried so hard to protect. "I know you been through some shit. You been goin' through it. You ain't talked about it. I get that. If anybody gets that, it's me. But it ain't you." Carol crumpled the paper up in her hands and pushed her chair back, standing up and turning to face him.

"You don't understand," she said quietly. Daryl shook his head.

"It don't matter. It happened. All of it."

"I _killed_ these people, Daryl. Do you want to hear it? Do you want me to tell you how I put a gun to Lizzie's head and pulled the trigger? Is that what you want?"

"I know you. You did what ya had to do. You always have."

"Stop," Carol bit out, turning away again.

"Hey." He took a step toward her, putting his hand on her shoulder. She turned again, looking up at him. Her eyes were red from crying, he realized, and her jaw tensed as she struggled to keep her emotions in check.

"This about Morgan? You ain't talked to him. Ain't looked at him. You ain't said a word to me, and I know somethin' went down in that basement."

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters."

"It's…it's done, Daryl. I just…I can't…" She took a shuddering breath and covered her face with her hands for a moment before she lowered her arms and stiffened up. "I don't what to feel. I can't feel…I can't."

"You said you couldn't. You said I had to, but you couldn't. Don't ya think it's time you did?" Carol looked at him then, and she opened her mouth to speak, but then she crumbled, pushing past him to walk out of the church.

"Damn it, talk to me!" She turned then, eyeing him, watching the way his shoulders heaved with each deep breath, the way his hands twitched at his sides, as if he didn't know quite what to do next. He wasn't the one that pushed. He wasn't the one that tried to get her to open up. She was the pusher. She was the one that tried to nudge him along in the past.

"I'm not the person I was," she said softly. "Back at the prison."

"Yeah, you said that before. Back in Atlanta."

"I did what I had to do." The words felt sticky on her tongue, and she could barely swallow them.

"You did. If it weren't for you, I'd be dead. We all would. You know that. So why the hell are ya doin' this to yourself?" He glanced down at the ball of paper at Carol's feet. "That's just a piece of paper. It's a past. Ain't nothin' more than that. We all done things we had to do to survive. We all done things we wish we could take back. But we can't, and that's life."

"I…can't." Her shoulders shook then. "I can't… _feel_ anything. Just…empty. I want to feel _something."_ She trembled then, and Daryl stepped closer.

"That ain't true. You're feelin' it. Now."

"I don't. I can't." She took a deep, shaking breath. "I don't want to feel this." The tears spilled out then, and Daryl hesitated, not sure if he should touch her, if he should try to comfort her. She'd been so quiet, so self-isolated, but she'd never let him get away with that. Not back at the prison. Not after everything went to hell in Atlanta. She'd sought him out. She'd stayed close and kept an eye on him, because she cared. Because she wanted him to be ok. Despite all the shit she'd been through, she'd thought of him, made sure _he_ was ok, and now here she was at a complete loss, and all he wanted was to put his arms around her and hold her.

"C'mere," he said quietly. He closed the gap between them, and she stiffened the second he folded her into his arms. But she relaxed the second she felt his lips press against her forehead. "You don't owe nothin' to nobody. Makin' lists is just pickin' at old scabs. You just gotta accept what happened. That's how ya heal." Carol sunk into the hug then, burying her face against his neck, letting herself fall into the warmth of his body. She shuddered then, and he stroked her back, hands shaking as he tried to fight against forty-six years of being afraid to get close to anybody. But, still, he held her, hand finally coming to rest at the small of her back, while his other hand moved over her arm softly, comfortingly.

Her breathing slowed, and she sighed softly, sniffling before she lifted her head and met his gaze. She missed the way he swallowed the lump in his throat and the way his breath hitched the second he met her gaze.

And then her gaze faltered, but she wasn't looking away. She was looking at him, at his mouth, and then she was looking into his eyes again. She kissed him then, softly, her lips pushing against his, his breath catching as the warmth of her kiss spread through him like a wildfire. And then it was over. He brought his hand to her cheek, and his thumb caught a stray tear.

"Thank you," she whispered, letting out a breath as if she was letting go of a burden. She reached down, curling her fingers with his. It was a start, a beginning. It would take time to heal, but for the first time in months, she finally felt like maybe healing was possible. Maybe, in the end, she could find the worth in it all and let the flames consume her, bringing forth a re-birth in herself in this life with the one person she trusted most in this world.

 _Whatever happened, happened. Let's start over._


End file.
